Rebuilding a Legend: Ballantine IPA

Pabst recently launched a new-millennium version of Ballantine IPA. Photo by Jon Page.

The contours of history are shaped by retellings, and over time, we begin to believe them. We have repeated the story of American craft brewing so many times it’s almost a mantra: “Fritz Maytag bought ailing Anchor Brewing in 1965 … Jack McAuliffe founded New Albion in 1976 … ” Beware single-origin histories, though—there’s always a predecessor, however hidden. In the case of strong, hoppy American ales, it was Ballantine IPA—and modern ales still bear a fair amount of its (largely forgotten) DNA.

It’s weird how completely Ballantine has vanished from the public record. As recently as the mid-1960s, it was one of the largest breweries in the country, and its IPA had been around for decades. There’s no doubt it influenced early craft brewers—indeed, Sierra Nevada’s super-popular “Chico” strain of yeast, used by tons of ale breweries now—is widely believed to be Ballantine’s. Although early craft breweries didn’t make IPAs like Newark’s finest, the similarity to beers like Anchor Foghorn and Sierra Nevada Bigfoot is surely not casual. If craft brewing had come along just a little sooner, Ballantine might well now be considered as the grandfather of craft brewing.

Instead, investors acquired the brewery in 1969 and passed it along to Falstaff a few years later. Falstaff shut down the old Newark brewery and moved it to Rhode Island, began mainstreaming it in the seventies, and then merged with Pabst in 1985. When Pabst shuttered its Milwaukee brewery in 1996, Ballantine IPA finally departed the earth, though it had been just a thin echo of its earlier self for decades by then. It has languished only in memory for a generation.

A couple years ago, Pabst’s master brewer, Greg Deuhs, started wondering about that beer. The brand is still owned by Pabst, but that doesn’t mean anyone knows how Ballantine IPA was made. “With all the acquisitions related to Ballantine, none of the records made it to me. All the records you’d expect just aren’t there; no one handed me a couple boxes and said, here are the recipes.” He was still intrigued by it, and researched it the best he could through the fragments of information that still exist. Eventually, he started five-gallon test batches to see how hard it would be to rebuild from memory, educated guesswork, and incomplete records. A couple of months ago, Pabst launched a new-millennium version of Ballantine IPA, and I spoke to Deuhs to find out how he’d reconstructed it.

There doesn’t appear to be a single formulation for the pre-70s Ballantine. Deuhs has seen references for a strength of everything from 6.9% to 8%. Bitterness units weren’t cited until fairly recently, when they ranged from 65 to 80. (In many of the references I’ve seen, they were pegged at 60.) Descriptions of the beer’s color and brewing process were well and consistently described, though. It was deep golden to amber in color, was aged in large pitch-lined oak tanks for a year, and both dry-hopped and dosed with hop oil. It was invariably described as a huge, impressive beer.

A couple of years ago, Pabst’s master brewer, Greg Deuhs, started work on rebuilding Ballantine IPA. Photo by Jon Page.

Deuhs began by talking to maltsters about what the grist might have looked like. “I’m pretty sure the recipe was pretty simple,” Deuhs concluded. “Pale malt, caramel malt, and Munich malt. Maybe some black malts for color adjustment.”

It’s an IPA, though, so the critical considerations revolved around the hopping. Hops raised an important philosophical question that framed the entire project, too: should Pabst try to recreate a museum piece, or brew a version of Ballantine that appeals to drinkers in the 21st century? “In the back of my mind, I thought if Ballantine as a brewery were in business today, which hops would they be using?” Deuhs wondered. “Would they have evolved to newer varieties, or a combination of new and old.” He opted for a combination, which seems like the right call. Breweries constantly update their beer; it’s difficult to imagine Ballantine trying to survive with a Bullion-and-Cluster-hopped beer in a Mosaic and Meridian world.

“[Old] boiling hops are not readily available,” he said. Instead, he experimented with hops that might have the character of older hops. He tried Galena, a relatively old “modern” cultivar from 1968, but it was too harsh. Cluster “didn’t give the flavor we wanted.” In the end, he used a blend of old classics and newer varieties. “We ended up with Magnum as the main bittering hop. Then we dosed a combination of Columbus, Brewer’s Gold, Fuggles, and then we did use some Cascade.”

The most intriguing thing about Ballantine was the use of hop oils. Mitch Steele described their process in his book, IPA:

“It used Bullion hops, a variety very hard to find now, and ground them into a fine powder, added water, and cooked them in a vacuum process that effectively distilled the oils from the hop material. The oils were collected and added to the beer, which gave it an intense, distinct presence unlike anything else available in the United States at the time.”

Unlike hop extract, which is used to bitter beer, hop oil is just the essential oil of the flower. It’s purely about the aroma. Deuhs decided not to make his own, but found an English manufacturer that still makes hop oil. He chose a blend of two of their products. It goes in just as the beer enters the bright tanks. For good measure, he dry hops the beer with two pounds per barrel of Cascade and Columbus.

The final touch is a nod to history—oak. Before Ballantine left Newark, the IPA was aged for a year in 800-barrel wooden tanks. This shouldn’t have changed the flavor much—they were pitch-lined. Yet still people felt they could taste wood. Deuhs wondered if there were some exposed staves that accounted for this—he speculated that perhaps 5% of the beer might have been oak-influenced. Drinkers, aware of the process, may have conjured the flavor themselves (reports vary from “little or no wood character” to “a lot of wood,” according to Deuhs’ research), or the flavor may have come from another source, like the rough hops, but it is part of the legend. To add a suggestion of oak, he created an “oak spiral torpedo” that goes into the bright tank and adds “a bit of oak nuance.”

They use the “Chico” strain to ferment the beer, natch—it really is the best bet they have for the original strain. The beer is made at Minnesota’s Cold Spring Brewery because, as Deuhs amusingly put it, they could do “very small production runs” of 75-barrel batches. (When you’re making mass market lager, a 75-barrel brewhouse looks like a nano.) Deuhs is in the planning process for Ballantine’s legendary Burton, a massive beer that the brewery vintage-aged for years before release. He won’t age most of it that long, but may begin salting some lots away to build up a library of aged Burton.

So, what’s the new Ballantine IPA taste like? You get a sense of what you’re in for with the pour; it comes out like treacle, viscous and foaming. I poured out two glasses from a 750 ml bottle, and both built these dense heads, sticky as cotton candy, that outlasted the beer. The aroma reminded me of a barley wine, with heavy, leathery malts, spiky plumes of alcohol, and something reminiscent of mole sauce. It tastes like a barley wine, too. The hops are surprisingly bitter despite the presence tongue-coating, syrupy residual sugars. The malts are neutral to caramelly, and the alcohol—just 7.2%—is pronounced. It isn’t obvious until later, but a peachiness emerges that helps add a touch of drinkability.

It’s not a modern IPA by any stretch. Craft breweries have figured out ways to make even very strong, very bitter beers moreish. Ballantine IPA is a snifter beer. It reminds me of descriptions I’ve read of old British beers like October beer and Edinburgh ale. Something to get you through the cold nights of winter.

Thanks for this report, Jeff, very well done. All kudos to Greg and Pabst for bringing this beer back. I haven’t tried it yet, I started drinking it in the mid-70’s and only stopped when Pabst stopped making it in ’96 in Milwaukee. (I still enjoy Ballantine XXX which is very worthy especially when very fresh).

The 1982 program of the Great American Beer Festival stated the beer used Cascade and Bullion. Still, the beer did not have in that period, much less in its classic Newark period, a grapefruit taste. I suspect the Cascade was used in the 80’s and 90’s as a bittering hop, not for aroma. Period descriptions of Ballantine IPA by Michael Jackson, James Robertson, and Michael Weiner amongst others, do not mention a grapefruit or citric taste. For example, Jackson’s 3ed. Pocket Guide calls the beer “tasty”, states it was open-tank top fermented and aged 3 months. But nowhere does Michael say the beer was similar to, say Sierra Nevada Pale Ale in hop character.

For this reason, while I fully understand the logic to use some modern varieties which mimic old ones, I can’t understand why C-hops were used in the recreation especially for dry-hopping. Some reports on BA and RB refer in fact to a grapefruit taste and odor.

In my view, Ballantine IPA will carve out a successful place in the current market by being what it was originally, not by tasting somewhat like current IPAs most of which have a strong citric character that reflects their reliance on aroma hops released since 1972. I recall 1970’s Ballantine IPA and even to the end it tasted more English than anything else.

Everything you described sounds in accord with that pretty much so I feel bullish, but I know if the beer has a noticeable Cascades or similar character when I taste it, I will be disappointed.

My constructive suggestion to Pabst would be to phase out post-72 citric hop flavor and odor from the beer. Given they are using 10 hops now, it should only take a relatively small adjustment to do it. The beer will gain in authenticity and market appeal, in my opinion.

Gary, I’d say two things. First, beers are rarely static. They change with the times. It appears Ballantine did over it’s long history as well. I think Greg Deuhs’ question about what Ballantine would taste like in 2014 if the brewery never got sold is a great one. And I think he was right to try to hit that mark rather than brew a beer frozen in amber as if nothing had changed in the beer world.

ah Ballantine Ale and IPA ,I remember them well.Ale was definitely made with Brewer’s Gold . Don’t remember the IPA profile . Both were very good and distinctive. not English or barley wine like to me. Beer has come a long way but it’s always nice to revisit the past.Looking forward to having another !

Those of my age who live on the east coast near NY can remember Mel Allen broadcaster for the NY Yankees calling all home runs in the 50’s as a “Ballentine Blast” both the IPA and the beer were a stable in the area for many years, glad to have the IPA back. At that time they were bottled in the pony 7 or 8 oz. bottles.

I’ve become very interested in IPA’s over the past few years going mostly with Stone, Smuttynose, among other smaller boutique Brewers. I tired the Ballantine IPA this weekend and was blown away by it’s similarity to Smutty’s Finestkind. I prefer less citrus in my IPA’s and this Ballantine hit it just right. Nice piney start, smooth mid-tones with the perfect bitter finish that I love. I paired it with some Buffalo Chicken wings and it was really outstanding. I Challenge Budweiser to come up with a boutique IPA like this. If nothing else then to throw down for some healthy competition. I’m sure they have a stake in many of the smaller Brewers anyway.

Drank my first Ballentine IPA in 1959. Thereafter, kept my refrigerator full. When the brewery moved from Newark to Cranston to Ft. Wayne, I kept buying, even though the ale kept changing, it was never bad. Oh by the way in 1959, you could get Anchor Steam in this crummy bar (reputed to be Jack London’s favorite bar) in Oakland, Ca. it was good then, but unpredictable. m y recollection of the 50’s IPA was of a strong Brewer’s Gold taste. The current version from Pabst is excellent. Bring back the old label, I have an empty in my basement, Iused to look at and sigh. Congratulations Pabst. All respect to Fritz.

God, my dad and I used to sit at the table and solve those puzzles – little stubby green bottles. We had a pile of caps 3 inches deep in the middle of the table. (dad was divorced.) I don’t think I have ever had a beer I enjoyed more

I enjoyed many a Ballantine IPA once upon a time and was thrilled to hear about it being re-released. When I tell you I ran right out to get a 6-pick the same day I heard, I am telling you I did so with a rapidly beating heart. That’s how good the original was. My evaluation is as follows: I think it is an excellent attempt and I understand the commercial aspects of making it to modern tastes – hats off to brewer. I do recall the body of the original being more substantial, much maltier – think of an Octoberfest beer with mega hops. Also, I recall the hops of the original being less flowery and complex than the modern ale taste that this interpretation has. The original had more of that “rusty nails” taste that could also be found in Ballantine’s standard ale – not the same, but definitely similar, and I say that in a good way. All in all, a heroic effort.

Excellent article, and kudos to the folks at Pabst for allowing Greg to go all out in reviving this great, old favorite. I have lived all my life no more than 20 miles from the original brewery in Newark, NJ and drank quite a bit of the original Ballantine IPA ‘back in the day’…and the new iteration comes impressively close.

On a technical note however, it should be pointed out that Ballantine in Newark did not use what is now called the “Chico” yeast strain (aka BRY96); rather, they used a different ale strain (banked as BRY97) for all of their ales.

Either way, Jeff’s article has it right: the new version of Ballantine IPA is a gem, and is refreshingly different from other IPAs produced nowadays, It successfully evokes memories of the original to those of us who called it their “go-to” beer all those years ago.

Was there any relationship between Ballantine and Pickwick Ale? PA showed up at my neighborhood discount beer store in New Hampahire in the mid-70s. The caps had rebuses.

I found the new Ballantine IPA today. While I understand the move (and need, given the kind of hops available/unavailable) to make it more like current IPAs, I’d love to taste a faithful recreation of the original. Just maybe it could start a trend toward SUBTLE hops flavors to counter the current “hop soup” trend. I wish.

I hope there are no short cuts producing what was once the best American IPA. My first taste was at the Oxford Tavern in Washington where we had ordered our usual Ballantine Ale. To our surprise was a strong, citrus tasting ale with a strong tanin taste. By our second one we had a slight smile and our taster buds would never again be satisfied by a lesser brew. I loved that on the label was printed the history of IPA and that the company aged their ale in Oak barrels. With the craze in craft beers it seems the IPA’s are Hoppy but don’t have the tradition that first made the English Ales IPA, Oak Barrels and the time it took to sail to India.

I remember my Dad drinking this beer when I was a tot back in the later 50’s/early 60’s! big Yankee fans and Ballantine sponsored the Yanks… “baseball and Ballantine” jingle is buzzing in my head!! lol!! I love IPAs and can’t wait to find this ale!!!

Just had my first Ballantine and I understand where most of the good IPAs came from. I can only imagine drinking one back in the day. Taste is hoppy and as the beer warmed the malt started to really come through. Great beer.

excellent, pretty close to original[Newark, NJ. Major problem is here, on west coast of Fl[Charlotte/Sarasota counties] we cannot find it. Publix Markets carried, but was advised JJ Taylor not co-operative[no surprise]

What happened to Ballantine Ale? Brown bottle and new taste. Why was it “America’s largest selling ale”? Flavor. Now it is not the same flavor so I am switching to Stella Artois. Closer to the old Ballantine and available in restaurants. Good by.

Yeah, I just returned from beer store with (I thought) standard Ballantine Ale. But find it is in brown bottles and truthfully tastes like the old Ballantine Beer. What hoppened? I’ve been drinking the ale since 1965 and I still have a 6-pack of the good stuff in green bottles in my fridge. Guess I’ll have to treat it like a rare wine for special occasions……